Shadows in the Silence
Page 108
I thrust with the blade again and he whirled out of its path, smashing his elbow into my face as he came around. I hit the ground on my back and I kicked him in the knee. He grunted and collapsed forward and I kicked him in the chin. His head snapped back and he staggered, falling to his knees. I scrambled away, jumped to my feet, and returned to my ward just as Madeleine had taught me. I tried not to think about her, for fear that she was dead along with Ava.
I gasped for breath. My body was buckling. This power—it was all too much for me. I’d remained in Heaven for decades to gain power, and now it was killing me. I had to call all of it in order to use the hallowed glaive and it was slowly destroying me.
Sammael was angry. With blood smeared across his face and golden eyes blazing, he launched himself at me, charred wings wide. He swung the burning scythe up high, towering over me, dangling bones and teeth clinking against each other, and he brought it down in a sweeping arc as I threw my weapon to parry his. The scythe hooked through one of the outer partisan blades and completely around the staff, and he pulled the glaive right out of my hands. It went soaring through the air behind him, landing nearly two dozen feet away from me, and my angelfire went out like a candle flame. Before I could dart around him to retrieve the weapon, his form vanished and reappeared in front of me, blocking my path. I ran the other way, but he blocked me again. I needed the glaive. Without a weapon I would die immediately. I raced directly for him, to his surprise, but instead of colliding with him, I hit the ground and slid across the pebbles and dirt and right through his legs. I stopped sliding and rolled to maintain my momentum, and I collected the glaive. My heart pounded. I felt my strength slipping.
He set the pommel of his scythe on the ground and lifted his hand. His power snaked off his form and slithered toward his palm, inky tendrils coiling around his armored limbs. Then his power rushed at me full-force, a black tsunami of electricity and Hellfire. I took it straight on, but it was so strong that I felt my boots slipping in the dirt and I was forced to fold my wings to protect them. Wind threw pebbles in my face, whipped my hair around like flames. I gripped the staff of the hallowed glaive tighter and I took a step, but I couldn’t move anymore. Summoning the power just to keep myself standing was draining me.
I glimpsed a shadow passing behind Sammael’s form and an enormous blade punched through his body, right through his armor. The sword slipped free and Sammael doubled over, and I could see Will at last. My Guardian raised his sword to strike again, but Sammael’s power hurled into his chest, knocking him back, which lifted the force rocketing against me barely enough to free me. Will hit the ground and when his green eyes met mine, I knew. I wouldn’t let the distraction go to waste.
Wings spread, I launched, my energy erupting like a bomb, and I raced full speed toward Sammael. I thrust the glaive, he knocked it aside with his hand, and I smacked the pommel into his ribs. As I slashed the blade, I studied his armor, searching for weaknesses that would allow me a killing blow. My best chance to kill him would be through his unprotected neck. The metal collars of his chest plate were high, but they didn’t cover every inch of his vulnerable skin. When the scythe hooked in the outer partisan blades this time, I was prepared. I wrenched it from his grip and flung it across the ground. I spun the staff around my body and before he could retrieve his blade, I pressed the tip of the glaive directly into the hollow of his throat, freeing a trickle of blood from his soft skin. His golden eyes stared up into mine, his life firmly in my grip.
“It’s over,” I snarled.
The hardness in his expression did not falter, even though he knew he was about to die. “I am not the only lord in Hell. others will rise to take my place. The Morningstar will crave revenge.”
“Let them come.”
I slashed one last time and opened his throat. He coughed and gagged, drowning in his own blood. I watched him suffer, feeling the wall my archangel discipline had built around my emotions crash down completely. I let my tears run as I stared into his face. He seemed beyond the pain now, and perplexed by my emotions. His mouth moved as if he would speak but was unable. Lightning flashed beneath his skin, once, twice, three times. And then his eyes rolled into the back of his head as his life’s blood was spent, pooling in the dirt beneath us.
I turned away, gasping for breath, and gazed upon the battlefield, knowing I had friends among the dead. Still, our forces had devastated the armies of Hell. The bodies of the dead had turned to stone, and the valley looked more like a boulder field than farmland. There were human corpses lying bloodied and broken among the reaper remains. My heart felt sick and I was tired, so very tired. But I wasn’t done yet.
“Ellie.” Will’s voice was quiet behind me. I closed my eyes as he stepped near and I sensed his heavy, gentle presence. He laid his hands on my arms, his touch soft and warm.
“Where are my friends?” I asked. “I want to see them.”
He drew away, his fingertips lingering on my skin, and then he started down the hill. My grip on the hallowed glaive grew weak and I almost dropped it. Will called to Marcus, and they met among the ruins. Will dipped his head close to Marcus and said something I couldn’t hear from this distance. Marcus put a hand on Will’s shoulder, and I had to look away.
I glimpsed Cadan walking among the bodies. He moved toward a reaper lying in the rubble. I saw that the fallen vir was Ronan, still lingering. Cadan knelt beside him and took his hand. They exchanged words, and moments later, Ronan was gone. I wanted to call to Cadan, to comfort him as he grieved for his friend, but then I remembered that I did not want him to repeat so soon what he had just endured. I didn’t want to make him watch me die. our last words had been enough.
I gasped for breath. My body was buckling. This power—it was all too much for me. I’d remained in Heaven for decades to gain power, and now it was killing me. I had to call all of it in order to use the hallowed glaive and it was slowly destroying me.
Sammael was angry. With blood smeared across his face and golden eyes blazing, he launched himself at me, charred wings wide. He swung the burning scythe up high, towering over me, dangling bones and teeth clinking against each other, and he brought it down in a sweeping arc as I threw my weapon to parry his. The scythe hooked through one of the outer partisan blades and completely around the staff, and he pulled the glaive right out of my hands. It went soaring through the air behind him, landing nearly two dozen feet away from me, and my angelfire went out like a candle flame. Before I could dart around him to retrieve the weapon, his form vanished and reappeared in front of me, blocking my path. I ran the other way, but he blocked me again. I needed the glaive. Without a weapon I would die immediately. I raced directly for him, to his surprise, but instead of colliding with him, I hit the ground and slid across the pebbles and dirt and right through his legs. I stopped sliding and rolled to maintain my momentum, and I collected the glaive. My heart pounded. I felt my strength slipping.
He set the pommel of his scythe on the ground and lifted his hand. His power snaked off his form and slithered toward his palm, inky tendrils coiling around his armored limbs. Then his power rushed at me full-force, a black tsunami of electricity and Hellfire. I took it straight on, but it was so strong that I felt my boots slipping in the dirt and I was forced to fold my wings to protect them. Wind threw pebbles in my face, whipped my hair around like flames. I gripped the staff of the hallowed glaive tighter and I took a step, but I couldn’t move anymore. Summoning the power just to keep myself standing was draining me.
I glimpsed a shadow passing behind Sammael’s form and an enormous blade punched through his body, right through his armor. The sword slipped free and Sammael doubled over, and I could see Will at last. My Guardian raised his sword to strike again, but Sammael’s power hurled into his chest, knocking him back, which lifted the force rocketing against me barely enough to free me. Will hit the ground and when his green eyes met mine, I knew. I wouldn’t let the distraction go to waste.
Wings spread, I launched, my energy erupting like a bomb, and I raced full speed toward Sammael. I thrust the glaive, he knocked it aside with his hand, and I smacked the pommel into his ribs. As I slashed the blade, I studied his armor, searching for weaknesses that would allow me a killing blow. My best chance to kill him would be through his unprotected neck. The metal collars of his chest plate were high, but they didn’t cover every inch of his vulnerable skin. When the scythe hooked in the outer partisan blades this time, I was prepared. I wrenched it from his grip and flung it across the ground. I spun the staff around my body and before he could retrieve his blade, I pressed the tip of the glaive directly into the hollow of his throat, freeing a trickle of blood from his soft skin. His golden eyes stared up into mine, his life firmly in my grip.
“It’s over,” I snarled.
The hardness in his expression did not falter, even though he knew he was about to die. “I am not the only lord in Hell. others will rise to take my place. The Morningstar will crave revenge.”
“Let them come.”
I slashed one last time and opened his throat. He coughed and gagged, drowning in his own blood. I watched him suffer, feeling the wall my archangel discipline had built around my emotions crash down completely. I let my tears run as I stared into his face. He seemed beyond the pain now, and perplexed by my emotions. His mouth moved as if he would speak but was unable. Lightning flashed beneath his skin, once, twice, three times. And then his eyes rolled into the back of his head as his life’s blood was spent, pooling in the dirt beneath us.
I turned away, gasping for breath, and gazed upon the battlefield, knowing I had friends among the dead. Still, our forces had devastated the armies of Hell. The bodies of the dead had turned to stone, and the valley looked more like a boulder field than farmland. There were human corpses lying bloodied and broken among the reaper remains. My heart felt sick and I was tired, so very tired. But I wasn’t done yet.
“Ellie.” Will’s voice was quiet behind me. I closed my eyes as he stepped near and I sensed his heavy, gentle presence. He laid his hands on my arms, his touch soft and warm.
“Where are my friends?” I asked. “I want to see them.”
He drew away, his fingertips lingering on my skin, and then he started down the hill. My grip on the hallowed glaive grew weak and I almost dropped it. Will called to Marcus, and they met among the ruins. Will dipped his head close to Marcus and said something I couldn’t hear from this distance. Marcus put a hand on Will’s shoulder, and I had to look away.
I glimpsed Cadan walking among the bodies. He moved toward a reaper lying in the rubble. I saw that the fallen vir was Ronan, still lingering. Cadan knelt beside him and took his hand. They exchanged words, and moments later, Ronan was gone. I wanted to call to Cadan, to comfort him as he grieved for his friend, but then I remembered that I did not want him to repeat so soon what he had just endured. I didn’t want to make him watch me die. our last words had been enough.
